In Brittany Shyne’s wonderful documentary “Seeds” the camera often captures parts of her subject that others might ignore.
Shyne, who also acts as cinematographerfocuses on hands, weathered with folds. She looks at her hair, washed in a sink. She lingers lovingly on ash dangling from a cigarette and the worn toes of boots. Shyne’s powerful eye is one of the reasons “Seeds,” a lyrical portrait of black farmers in the American South, is one of the must-see documentaries Sundanceand will continue to be crucial when released to a wider audience.
Captured in exquisite black and white, Shyne creates poignant evidence of a declining population. The world of these landowners is threatened by discrimination and government ignorance. But “seeds” aren’t all about statistics, even if they are shared in passing. Shyne makes a powerful argument by simply letting the audience absorb a way of life.
The details will eventually come into play. One important thing, for example, is the astonishing fact that at the beginning of the 20th century black farmers owned 16 million acres of land and now they have only 1 million. But this information is not revealed through title cards or authoritative talking heads. When the people of Shyne’s film speaking directly to the camera, they do it less like they’re being interviewed and more like they’re talking to an old friend.
Shyne, who grew up in Ohio, didn’t grow up on a farm, but her ancestors did: Her great-grandfather owned 300 acres in Louisiana. And although she doesn’t state this in the film, she eventually alludes to her own intimacy with this community. Yet she herself remains on the fringes of the story. The only glimpse of her we see is an outstretched hand, as if reaching through her medium. And yet her approach becomes that of a family member of the Kenativa-Williams clan, a group she embeds herself into. They are the owners of one of the oldest black farms to receive the “centennial” designation, an honor that conveys their deep history.
“Seeds” begins with both death and life, capturing a family on their way to a funeral. She finds grace in the smallest gestures like a grandmother sharing sweets from her purse with her hungry grandson while they discuss their lineage.
Characters appear in Shyne’s narrative, but they are defined not by their names, but by their actions. One such figure is Willie Head Jr., a great-grandfather, who loves that his great-granddaughter, Alani, pulls out a portrait to show how much she resembles his late mother. He is a symbol of this country’s generational traits, but also the fight to keep it. We follow him as he goes to Washington DC. demanding justice for black farmers, arguing on the phone with a representative of the Department of Agriculture, lamenting the promises that Joe Biden failed to keep.
But as much as Shyne is interested in the people of this land, she is also interested in how they interact with the land itself and how that interaction has evolved. In one of the most striking long sequences, she patiently watches a massive machine as it picks cotton. The beast-like mechanism eventually collects everything it has picked from the earth to form a massive wall of material. There is no need for Shyne to over-verbalize the meaning of these images: Black farmers cultivate land on which they were once enslaved, using tools that lighten the burden of this task.
Not that this isn’t hard work, especially given the lack of resources. But there is also joy in the quite literal fruits that emerge from the ground. A watermelon harvest becomes something close to a party. There is an ineffable beauty in the shot of a pecan shelled, the flesh suddenly revealed.
The choice to film in black and white makes “Seeds” elegant in nature. It’s a medium associated with history, and for as vibrant as the people are in Shyne’s lens, there’s a bittersweet acknowledgment of how that may soon be gone. That’s why the grief of death hovers over the frames, whether it’s the literal memory of bodies or the deep wrinkles on the faces we see on screen.
To counteract the depiction of age, there is also a focus on the youth. You see who will ultimately inherit this country in the children depicted on the screen – the gurgling baby and the girl doing cartwheels in the grass. They are the living examples of why these farms are so important to these families. The soil is the legacy they pass on to this younger generation.
“Seeds” require patience. Clocking in at over two hours, Shyne takes her time. You must orient yourself to the piece’s slow rhythms, which encourage you to enjoy these quiet moments. But it’s an incredibly rewarding journey, a film indebted to a past that feels brilliantly alive.
Grade: A-
“Seeds” premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. It is currently seeking distribution in the United States.
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